


A Beard in the Hand

by DelilahMcMuffin



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Beards (Facial Hair), Blow Jobs, Body Hair, Insecurity, M/M, Patrick Brewer loves David Rose, Patrick makes it all better, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-16 19:41:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28587360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DelilahMcMuffin/pseuds/DelilahMcMuffin
Summary: “Um…” David stands awkwardly in the doorway, fidgeting with the handle of his leather carry all. He shifts from foot to foot under Patrick’s wonderstruck gaze. “So, my trimmer broke. And I haven’t been able to find another one that can handle the level of...well, all this—“ He gestures to his face. And then he grimaces and gestures to his body, and Patrick’s brain completely short circuits because Jesus.Or: David grows a beard and is very anxious about it. Patrick makes it all okay.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 14
Kudos: 257





	A Beard in the Hand

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Distractivate](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Distractivate/gifts).



> So I was cleaning out my Google Docs and came upon this fic that I apparently wrote months and months and months ago. I remember plotting it out, and I remember writing the beginning, but I don't remember finishing it! Insert Gandalf _I Have No Memory of This Place.gif_. However, I started writing it for Distractivate, so...here you go! Months and months and months late!
> 
> Sorry! 😬

“Morning.”

Patrick looks up from the inventory list in his hands at the sound of the bell and the soft greeting. 

“Morn—“ Oh. _Oh_ _wow._

Patrick’s own greeting fizzles out and his jaw drops open and his brain reboots itself.  _ David has a beard. _ Like...a real beard. Like, the kind of beard Patrick could try for months to grow with only dusty-looking peach fuzz to show for his efforts. And it’s only been four days. And David. Has. A. Beard.

“Um…” David stands awkwardly in the doorway, fidgeting with the handle of his leather carry all. He shifts from foot to foot under Patrick’s wonderstruck gaze. “So, my trimmer broke. And I haven’t been able to find another one that can handle the level of...well, all this—“ He gestures to his face. And then he grimaces and gestures to his  _ body,  _ and Patrick’s brain completely short circuits because  _ Jesus _ . 

David gives a decisive nod of his head and quickly rounds the counter and disappears into the back room. Patrick watches him go. He glances down at the clipboard in his hand, then at the  _ OPEN _ sign on the front door. He makes up his mind.

Tossing the clipboard onto the table beside the body milk, he makes a quick detour to the door, locking it and flipping the sign to  _ CLOSED _ before following David into the back room. 

David has his back to him, fussing with the surplus candles stored on the back shelf.

“How was the conference?” David asks, still facing away from Patrick.

“It was fine,” Patrick says. He presses himself against David’s back, wrapping his arms around his waist and nuzzling his face into the nape of David’s neck.  _ God, he smells good. _ Woodsy and musky with a sharp tang of citrus. “I missed you, though. I missed this.” He nibbles at David’s neck. He nuzzles his nose into the hair at his jaw. It tickles, softer than the stubble he’s gotten so used to over the past year “I could get used to this.”

“You don’t have to say that,” David demures, twisting out of Patrick’s arms. He reaches for a box of candles, but Patrick is quicker, taking the box from David and setting it on the desk. He turns David, pressing him back against the bare patch of wall between the desk and the shelves, letting his hands settle on David’s hips. 

“Hey,” he says, ducking his head to try and catch David’s eye. “When have I ever said something to you that I didn’t mean?”

David’s mouth twists, curving into a shy smile. “Never.”

“That’s right.” Patrick leans in, pushing up onto his toes, and kisses David. And oh.  _ Oh. _ The beard feels different. It feels good. David makes a little noise in the back of his throat before he relaxes into the kiss, parting his lips and granting Patrick’s probing tongue entrance. 

His hands fumble with the hem of David’s sweater, then he’s pushing it up, his fingers finding a home on the soft skin just above the waistband of his criminally tight jeans. 

“Can I?” Patrick’s thumbs tease the sides of David’s belly. 

David tenses. “Um...it’s not, I mean, I know you don’t mind how I usually look. But it’s...you might not—“

“I don’t  _ mind?”  _ Patrick repeats, incredulous. He pulls back to look up at David. “Babe, I  _ love _ the way you look. Every inch of you. Always.”

David’s eyes slide away from Patrick’s gaze. He chews nervously on his lower lip. “It’s just...people have told me that it’s not a good look. All the hair. It’s not sexy.”

Patrick brings his hands up to cup David’s face. He shivers at the feeling of the longer hair between his fingers. He gently guides David’s face so that their eyes meet. “David, if you don’t want me to see, I’m not going to make you show me.” He can tell that David is fighting every urge to look away, to avoid being seen. “But please don’t feel like you have to hide from me. There is nothing about your body that could possibly make me want you any less.”

“Mkay, you say that now,” David says, his lips twisting into a wry smile. Patrick misses his dimples, hidden behind the beard, but the way he can see David’s confidence growing more than makes up for it. “I guess...if you want…”

“Yeah? Can I...Baby, can you show me?”

David’s eyes remain wary, but he nods his head, reaching down to gather the hem of his sweater. “Um, is the door—“

“I locked it,” Patrick interrupts, eyes laser focused on the thick, dark line that has just become visible beneath the bottom of David’s shirt. He swallows thickly, licks his lips. David slowly draws his sweater up and over his head and Patrick’s lungs feel too full and so empty all at once. “Jesus,” he murmurs reverently, hands poised just above David’s chest. The swirls of dark hair are thicker than he’s used to. He looks up at David, wordlessly asking permission. He waits until David nods, then he lets his hands smooth over the dark hair, the dusky nipples peeking out from beneath the thick nest on David’s chest. He bends his head and lets his tongue circle one nipple, pinching and flicking the other with his finger and thumb until both are pebble-hard and David is whimpering and writhing. 

“Fuck,” Patrick breathes, taking a nipple between his lips. He can feel the hair on his chin, his nose, his cheeks. Can feel himself growing hard—painfully hard—in his jeans. Harder than he has any business being before noon on a Thursday morning. It’s been a long time since they’ve had to resort to a back room quickie. Since Patrick got his own place, privacy hasn’t been an issue. But he knows he won’t be able to stop himself now, won’t be able to wait until he can get David into his bed tonight after they close the store.

He drops to his knees and hears a dull thunk as David lets his head fall back against the wall. Patrick’s fingers are shaking, he’s nervous. He hasn’t been this nervous since those early days when he was so eager to prove to himself and to David that he wanted this, wanted to be good at this. He fumbles open the button on David’s fly and roughly tugs his jeans and underwear down his thighs. Then he takes David’s half-hard cock into his mouth and sinks down, down, until his nose is buried in the unruly nest of hair at its base.

Patrick hums, deep in his throat at the taste of David. The smell of David. The weight of David’s cock on his tongue. He pulls back until just the tip is in his mouth, then back down to the root, over and over again until David is babbling and his fingers are wound tightly in the hair at the crown of Patrick’s head. And then David is coming, pulsing and hot down his throat. Patrick sucks gently until David is spent and his cock begins to soften. Then he pops off with a filthy slurp and grins up at David. 

David looks dazed and fucked out, eyes hooded and glazed over as he sucks in a shuddering breath. Patrick feels something tickling at his lip and he reaches up, pulling a thick, curly strand of hair from the corner of his mouth. He looks at it, then up at David, whose hands have come up to cover his face.

“Oh God.  _ Oh God!” _ he wails, his voice muffled behind his palms. “That’s so...I’m so sorry, Patrick. That’s so gross!”

Patrick grins as he gets to his feet, his erection straining against the confines of his own jeans. He flicks the wayward hair into the garbage can under the desk and takes hold of David’s wrists, gently coaxing them away from his face.

“David?” He keeps his voice soft, not teasing, but not entirely serious either. 

“What?” David looks like he’d like nothing more than to have the floor open and swallow him whole. 

Patrick presses his pelvis against David’s thigh, rocking his hips gently, making sure David can feel the strength of his desire. “Does it feel like anything that just happened has turned me off?”

David eyes him warily, hands fluttering to a stop on Patrick’s shoulders. “No?”

“And does it feel like I want you any less because maybe I got a little hair in my mouth?”

David grimaces in distaste. “Ew.”

Patrick chuckles, leaning in to nuzzle his face into the spot on David’s neck that he loves, just below his ear. “Maybe later tonight I can show you how  _ not gross _ I find all this—“ he lets one hand fall to David’s chest, trails it down his stomach, rakes his fingers through the hair below his belly button. “I’ll be very convincing. It will take all night.”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” Patrick grinds his cock against David’s hip as if to prove his point. David gasps and captures Patrick’s earlobe between his lips. 

And then he’s bending down to pull up his pants, refastening his fly and grabbing for his sweater to pull it over his head. “Well. I’d better get back to work then,” he says, giving Patrick’s ass a playful swat as he heads for the curtain. “Reliable business hours and all."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I'll continue digging through my docs to see what other goodies I can find!!
> 
> Comments and kudos are most welcome. I would absolutely love to hear from you 🥰
> 
> I'm on Tumblr @delilah-mcmuffin and on Twitter @DelilahMcMuffin. Come say hi!
> 
> Until Next time,
> 
> D McM


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